“Any time will do for that; I am not in want of it.”
“No time like the present; so here you are, Thompson.”
She drew from her purse notes for the amount, and handed them to her companion.
“Oh, if you are so beastly particular, so be it, then,” observed Peace, taking them from her and pocketing them.
“There’s an end of that, then,” said he. “Well, I’m as pleased as Punch to see you once more free. Why it’s the first time you’ve been in gaol—aint it?”
“Yes, the very first, and I hope, Thompson, it will be the last.”
“I hope so, I’m sure,” returned Peace, in a sanctimonious tone and manner, which would have done credit to a Dissenting minister.
Miss Stanbridge stopped for some little time. After this she was introduced to the two ladies of the establishment, but, of course, not a word was said either by herself or our hero upon past circumstances or the nature of her connection with Peace. The women had to be kept in the dark as much as possible, and certainly their lord and master contrived somehow or other to throw dust in their eyes, which, all things considered, must be deemed almost marvellous to all reasonable persons. But Peace was a wonder in many ways, this being by no means the least remarkable trait in his diversified character.
Laura Stanbridge, as we have already seen, knew very well how to make herself agreeable, and her two female companions declared, after she had left the house in the Evalina-road, that she was a most delightful woman—a declaration which we don’t expect any of our readers will endorse.